Riddle Me This: Merope's Tale
by bored-now0809
Summary: One Shot. Tom Riddle is the handsome welltodo boy who lives in a mansion. Merope is the lonely, crosseyed, girl next door. Add Amorentia. Stir three times counterclockwise and let's see what happens...


**Riddle Me This: Merope's Tale**

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. I don't own any of the characters in this story. (Well, maybe some of the OC's at the end.)_

_OOOOoooo0000oooooOOOOO_

Merope sat by the fireplace deep in thought. Even thought it was early summer, it was nice to just sit there and think. It seemed that she had time for that now that her father and brother were in Azkaban. Peace and quiet. Two things that she'd never had with _them. _A jingle from the lane snapped Merope out of her thoughts. Tom Riddle was riding by.

She raced out of the living room over to the window and saw him, her knight in shining armor, on his horse. He wiped his brow; the weather was beginning to turn warmer.

"What I wouldn't give for a drink!" Riddle exclaimed and idea flashed into Merope's head. She knew it was wrong, but after taking one more look at him- she decided she didn't care.

She was going to brew Amorentia.

Her powers had slowly started to return. Ever since _they_ had gone away, she'd been happier. And one day when she'd dropped a pot while making her lonely supper, instinctively she'd made it hover in the air. She'd been so surprised that she'd ended up dropping it anyway.

But no matter. With an uncharacteristic sense of purpose and determination, Merope squared her shoulders and went to her room. Her room was bare of any of the usual decorations that girls put up on their walls. The walls were grey. The floors were grey. The only piece of furniture besides the ramshackle bed was a large trunk, undoubtedly it had once belonged to an ancestor of theirs- Marvolo had never spent a Knut on her. Pushing the trunk aside, she pulled up the loose floorboard and reached inside.

This was where Merope kept the few possessions that she had. She had managed to save a few books on magic when her father had refused to send her to Hogwarts. Now, the rest of the books were gone- sold to pay for food. But she knew that she'd saved just the one she needed: Advanced Potions.

With a quiet sigh of happiness Merope turned to the page that she'd been looking at for the last year. She loved this picture, the spirals of smoke rising above a beautiful pearlescent potion. It was no shock to her that such a beautiful potion could cause people to fall in love…really in love.

After checking the list of ingredients, she made her way to Diagon Alley…if she started now it would be ready when the summer was at its hottest.

**OOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

The summer arrived and Merope admired her softly simmering potion. It was perfect. She'd had three tries, but she'd managed it in the end. It was ready now, and just in time- it was broiling outside. She heard the jingle of Riddle's spurs and knew this was her chance. She'd been giving him drinks every day now for the past few weeks, he would leave with a careless word and a toss a shilling her way, but for Merope, those moments were magical.

"Ho, there! In the cottage! Melanie…"

"Merope, Mr. Riddle." Merope said appearing with a jug of water in her hands. At least it appeared to be water.

"Yes. Merope." He said raising his brows as though wondering who would name their child Merope.

"I made this drink special for you." She said with a slight quaver in her voice.

"Excellent." He replied brusquely and grabbed the glass from her without even getting off his horse. He swallowed it in one gulp and was about to reach into his pocket for a coin, when suddenly it hit him. He needed to marry her. Now. "Melanie-"

"Merope."

"Yes, yes. How careless of me…Merope. My love. My one true darling!" Riddle slid off his horse and fell to his knees before Merope. She began to blush furiously. "You must put me out of my misery. You must marry me! My dear!"

He grabbed her hand and began to kiss it passionately and enthusiastically. Merope felt like she was in a dream…was this really happening? She looked down at Riddle, who was looking up at her adoringly.

"Do you mean it Tom? Do you really want to marry me?" She asked.

"Of course my dearest love." He said passionately before going back to kissing her hand.

"Yes! Then yes! Just let me get my things together…" She trailed off thinking of the potion. She would need to bring it with her.

"Hurry! I shall wait right here for your return, then we shall go straight to London. I cannot wait to have you as my wife!" He exclaimed and Merope felt a thrill run through her. It was just how she imagined it.

Running into the tumbledown shack, she siphoned the rest of the potion into a flask and quickly charmed it so it wouldn't break. Running into her room, she pushed her trunk aside and pulled all her treasures out from under the floorboard and placed them into her trunk. Fingering Slytherin's locket, she took one last look around her room and with a flick of her wand; she shrunk her trunk, put it in her pocket, and hurried out to Riddle.

"I didn't need anything after all." She said trying to explain her empty hands, but she didn't need to worry.

"Don't worry, my dear. I'll shower you in presents; you will have the luxuries of life…" He would've gotten back down on his knees and kissed her hand (and maybe her feet) again, but Merope stopped that.

"Let's go quickly then. Take me away from here, Tom." Merope said and Tom quickly straightened up and kissed her. It was her first kiss- and not exactly how she'd imagined it. Riddle's hands seemed to be everywhere; she couldn't really concentrate on what was going on. It felt rushed, frantic even. They broke away. He was about to dive in again but Merope stopped him.

"Tell, me you love me again." She requested in a wistful voice. He complied and begged her to say it back. Once Riddle was assured of her affections in return, they started on their way to London. Neither one caring about Little Hangleton or the lives they had lived there at the moment.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Merope Gaunt Riddle looked down at the peaceful, handsome face of her husband. They had been married for one year and had never been out of each other's company for more than a few moments. Tom didn't like to be apart from her. She told herself that was normal when people were in love. They wanted to spend time together.

She almost believed it.

Continually giving him the love potion was causing a strain on her own happiness. Surely by now, he had learned to love her on his own- wouldn't he have tried to fight the potion off if he didn't love her? She was sure she'd read that somewhere.

Besides, now she had the best news of all to share with him. She was pregnant. She'd done the test to make sure that it was really true- she'd found out that it was a boy. Surely Tom would like that.

He began to stir and she got up to give him his coffee. Should she put the potion in like she usually did? Her hand hesitated over the flask that she had charmed so long ago and before she could change her mind, she poured it down the sink.

"Coffee, dearest?" She asked like usual. Riddle blinked his eyes and looked at her confused for a moment.

"You!" He exclaimed. "What did you do to me?"

"I-Before I tell you…I need to let you know…"

"What did you do? Answer me now!"

"Tom-"

"Mr. Riddle to you." He said coldly.

"I'm pregnant with your son." She said and he blinked at her from his place on the bed. Riddle pulled the sheet around himself, his face devoid of emotion.

"He'll be no son of mine." He told Merope. She felt her world come crashing down. The potion was gone. It would take months to make more and what would she do then?

"Please…Tom…what am I to do?"

"Tell me what you did to me! How did you trick me into marrying you! One year of my life gone! Cecilia, my darling Cecilia thinks I'm in love with _you_! "

"It was a simple potion…I would never hurt you."

"A what?"

"A potion…I'm a witch."

"A what?!" Riddle was panicked now. She was obviously a dangerous madwoman. "You're mad."

"No. Tom-"

"Mr. Riddle."

Merope ignored him and pulled out her wand. He looked at her cautiously. She felt her heart break a little more. She waved her wand and sparks came out of the end. "I'm a witch."

"Madness." He muttered. Merope went to move towards him, but he back away. "Stay away from me! You'll stay well away from me if you know what's good for you."

"But we're married!" Merope cried. "I'm having your baby! I can make you happy, I know I can. Please…let me make you happy."

"You? Make me happy? Don't make me laugh." He surveyed her coldly and Merope was once again aware of her slightly crossed eyes and inelegant jaw line. "Get out of my sight. You're nothing to me!"

"But, you promised." She whimpered.

"Not me. You and your parlor tricks made me act in a way I would never act." He looked at her again and shuddered. "And do things I would never have done."

And with that Merope's heart shattered. She turned her head away, at which point, Riddle got up and left the room. He got dressed without another word and then he left. Merope cried that day. Where would she go? What would she do? Tom, her lovely wonderful Tom, had left her. She stayed there all day. Not moving. Barely able to breathe. All she knew was that she had to get out of here.

**OOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Two months later Merope stood in the street in London staring blankly about. She was well into her seventh month now, but she felt no joy at the prospect of a baby. What was there to be happy about now that Tom had left her?

She'd managed to scrape by the past few months by waitressing at a Muggle diner, but now that she was showing so much, she could no longer do that. All the money that Tom had left in their "home" was spent. She had nowhere to go and nothing to eat. It was time to try her luck in the wizarding world.

Since the day that Tom had left her, she'd shunned the world she had been raised in. After all, she'd never have been in this situation if she wasn't a witch. Besides that, her magic hadn't been working very well since that fateful day. Taking a deep breath, and ignoring the varying pitying or repulsed looks being tossed her way, Merope made her way to Diagon Alley.

Hurrying through the Leaky Cauldron, she didn't pause in Diagon Alley, knowing the only store that could help her would not be among its cherry storefronts. Turning down Knockturn Alley, she could hear Marvolo's voice in her head.

_"The only store where the__y__still__ put the value they should on purebloods is at that Borgin and Burke's. The only place in that whole damn cesspool they call a city…."_

Her pace slowed as she approached Borgin and Burke's and her hand convulsively reached up and gripped the locket around her neck. If she sold it, she would have nothing but the rags she was standing in. And the baby, of course. Taking a deep breath, Merope walked in the store.

She glanced around at the objects in the store as she walked towards the desk where a dapper looking man was looking over what appeared to be a ledger. The man looked up and Merope could practically feel the sneer that was directed at her and her shabby appearance.

She walked slowly to the counter, trying to gather her courage, but she could feel herself hunching over and drew her arms around herself.

"May I help you?" Mr. Burke asked in a skeptical tone.

"Y-y-yes." Merope stuttered. She bit her tongue and stopped talking immediately.

"Well?" Mr. Burke said impatiently.

"I-I-I have s-s-omething t-t-to sell." She said hesitantly. Mr. Burke sighed and put his quill down. He turned his attention

"Well, what is it then?" Again Merope hesitated and he huffed impatiently. "I don't have all day, girl." He snapped at her. She slowly drew out the locket.

"My father gave it to me." She said quietly. "It once belonged to Slazar Slytherin." She added in a whisper.

"Slytherin, you say?" Burke asked skeptically. He put his hand out and Merope cautiously placed the locket in his hands. Burke felt a flicker of excitement pass through himself, but shielded it effectively from Merope. That was Slytherin's crest on the locket.

"Yes, I'm descended from Slytherin." Merope said nervously while twisting her hands in front of her.

"Hmmm…" He looked at her skeptically. The rags she wore did not exactly convince him of this claim. "I would need to perform extensive magical tests in order to prove that this locket did indeed belong to Slytherin." Burke said in his most condescending voice. By the look of her, this young witch needed the money quickly. Perhaps if he played his cards right he could get the locket for a song…

"Time? I…I don't"

"Or, just as a favor between friends…" He let the word hang in the air, instinctively knowing that Merope had none of those "I could give you 10 galleons now and take this off your hands."

"I don't know." She said skeptically. It seemed that Slytherin's locket would be worth much more than 10 galleons. Burke sighed and went to hand the locket back.

"Of course, I would be taking on a great deal of risk by doing that." He gave her a dour look. "If the locket was not indeed Slytherin's, I would be out 10 galleons." Merope frowned thinking it over. How long would 10 galleons last her? Could she make it to the end of her time? Burke put the locket on the counter and pushed it towards her as though he was completely rejecting it and she panicked. Ten galleons would be better than none.

"'I'll take it! Please, the 10 galleons." She asked in a desperate tone.

"I'm glad that you see it my way, Miss." Burke said in an oily tone. He gave her a toothy grin and quickly placed the locket behind the counter before she could change her mind. Opening up the cash register he slowly counted out the agreed upon sum of 10 galleons and watched as Merope slid them off the counter and into her empty, dirty hands.

"Have a nice day." He called after her as she turned around and left the store as quickly as she could. He chuckled to himself as he heard the door close behind her. He held up the locket and looked at it carefully, mostly convinced that it was Slytherin's own. He smirked to himself and let out another chuckle. "It's certainly been a good day for me."

**OOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooo**

Merope gasped in pain. It was time. It turned out that the 10 Galleons had been sufficient to get her through the last two months of her pregnancy…but she had just spent her last Knut the day prior and had no money for a hospital. She had been asking around though, and had heard of an orphanage nearby…

"Mrs. Poole! Mrs. Poole!" A young girl in the plain dress that all the orphans wore called out. She had opened the front door to take out the trash- a most unenviable chore since it was raining outside- and a women, heavily pregnant, had fallen into the foyer.

"What is it Emily?" A tall woman in similarly plain work clothes asked. Emily had sounded frantic, which was out of character for the young girl.

"This lady's ill!" Emily cried and Mrs. Poole paused at the scene before her. Emily was kneeling down beside a rather plain and obviously pregnant woman- a girl really. A spilled out bag of garbage was by her side. For a moment, Mrs. Poole's stomach turned and wondered if that was some sort of omen. Shaking off the silly superstition, she quickly took command of the situation.

"Emily, you take care of that refuse. This is not a pig pen after all." She walked swiftly over to the pair and began to help Merope up. Merope cried out in pain. "Now, now young lady. No harm will come to you here. I'm taking you to the infirmary. We have everything there that you'll need." Merope moaned in pain and clutched her stomach a bit.

"It's coming now." She rasped out. Mrs. Poole swallowed a bit and quickened her pace.

"No worry, dearie. Nothing to worry about. We'll set you right. Come on with you." And she began to chivy Merope into a one of the nice clean beds in the infirmary. She grimaced, taking in Merope's dirty attire and unwashed hair. "How long has this been going on, dear? Has your water broken?" Mrs. Poole asked.

"Water? It's raining…" Merope mumbled and Mrs. Poole sighed. The girl was young and Mrs. Poole wondered what had happened to bring her to such obviously dire straits. She resolved to ask those questions after the baby was born- she had too much to concentrate on now.

"Never mind, dear. I'm just going to see what's going on." She said in a falsely cheerful voice and went down to the end of the bed and pushed Merope's legs apart. Merope didn't even really notice. Emily knocked on the doorframe.

"D'ya need anything Mrs. Poole?" She asked hesitantly. Mrs. Poole cursed and Emily's eye opened wide in amazement.

"Get Nurse Baxter and rouse the other matrons Emily." Mrs. Poole said in a tense voice. "The baby's crowning!" Sensing the urgency in Mrs. Poole's words, although not fully understanding their meaning, Emily hurried away.

Soon, the infirmary was a flutter of activity. The Nurse burst in and brushed Mrs. Poole aside; who was grateful for the reprieve- she was no midwife. The other matrons came in with some clean linen. One of them rushed out again to get some boiling water once they saw the situation.

"Is there time to clean the girl?" Mrs. Poole asked. Nurse Baxter shook her head.

"The girl must have been on the street for some time." She sighed. "The baby is coming fast." There was not much time for talking and the room was strangely quiet. Merope made barely sound, only the occasional whimper or moan escaped throughout the brief delivery. Soon, the baby was born.

"It's a boy." The nurse said brusquely, handing the baby off to Mrs. Poole. She wiped her hands on some of the clean linen and moved back to help with the afterbirth.

"It's a boy, dear." Mrs. Poole said moving up to Merope and showing her the newborn. Merope reached her hand out to touch the boy, but cried out in pain again, her hand falling uselessly to her side. "What should we call him?"

"Tom…after his father…." She said and tears filled her eyes. Her darling Tom! How she longed for him even now. Her vision began to get hazy around the edges.

"Tom, lovely-"

"And Marvolo….for my father." Merope continued. Everything was getting blurry; the colors all seemed to blend together.

"Mar...Marvolo? Hmm…lovely." Mrs. Poole said in a more skeptical tone. "Why don't you hold him?" Mrs. Poole continued and put the baby in Merope's arms.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle." Merope took a look at the baby. She smiled at him wistfully. "I do hope that he looks like his father." She said softly before crying out in pain again.

"Get the baby out of here!" Nurse Baxter called sharply. Mrs. Poole snatched the baby up. The baby wasn't really crying, but had a sort of calm, eager look on his face that while not menacing, was not pleasant.

"What's the matter?" One of the matrons asked.

"She's having trouble with the afterbirth." The Nurse said in a no-nonsense tone. "Get the baby out of here before the mother dies." And the newly born Tom Marvolo Riddle was hustled out of the room moments before his mother died.

"What a sad young girl." Mrs. Poole whispered, now wishing that she had questioned the girl a little more closely about the father and her own family. She smiled at the baby, who returned her look with a quizzical stare. Mrs. Poole's smile soon drooped. "Well, young master Tom, we'll just wait for these Riddles, or that father _Marvolo_ shows up."

Mrs. Poole climbed up the stairs to put the baby up in the nursery with the other children of the orphanage who were under the age of two. Her heart felt heavy in her chest and the rain outside began to pour more heavily. Emily watched from her hiding spot underneath the stairwell as Mrs. Poole brought the baby upstairs. She shivered, and picked up the copy of Macbeth that was reading for the schoolmaster

_By the pricking of my thumbs…something wicked this way comes…._

_Act 4 Scene 1_

**OOOOoooo0000oooooOOOOO**

**AN:** So i hope that you enjoyed this one. I did do a tiny bit of proofing...but not a whole lot. Anyways, I haven't been posting lately (school and work have been driving me insane!) but I have been writing sporadically. I've been working on the following:

- Sequel to "A Sirius Affair" I'm having some trouble with this one as I have not yet really decided on whether to deviate from the ending of book 5 or not

-2 stories that take place in the Maurader's Era (surprise surprise) with Sirius and a Slytherin OFC. Very different personalities. One is more of a saga and the other just a one-year shorter story.

-I also have some ideas bouncing around my head about a rebuilding story after DH.

So that's what I've been working on/thinking about. Hopefully I'll be able to start posting one of them pretty soon. Let me know what you think and if any of these ideas peak any interest in you guys!


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